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I feel hurt because my friend read my message and has ignored it for over a day. It was an unimportant message… I guess I’m hurt because I was trying to be normal, ya know? NOT go to her in an emotional crisis. So, I just asked how her trip was… This is beyond stupid and petty. I know. I’m still anxious about work tomorrow and I don’t deal well with rejection. Part of me doesn’t want to go to work.

I wish I could make this part of my brain shut up! I take any insignificant thing and latch onto it as proof that the voice in my head is right. “See?? She doesn’t like you! No one likes you! You’re useless. No one needs you at work. No one wants you. You’re pointless. They’ be better off without you, the kids would be too.”

All anyone says is that I”m being stupid, which I know is true, but that doesn’t help. 😦

EDIT: YAY! My persistence paid off! She replied and we talked about normal stuff, also she noticed my drop off in negative emotional communication and appreciates it. I pointed it out and explained that I was consciously making an effort to be less emotionally draining because I wanted her to know I was trying. *does happy calorie burning dance* 😀

I’m not in love. I KNOW that. However, I sense my feelings slipping. As much as I like someone else to take control in various areas of my life, I detest not being able to control my emotions!

I find my fantasies changing from faceless amoral kidnappers, to him. Of course, there is still violence, but it is different. There is less of the foolhardy kind I can indulge in the safety of my mind and more of the safe and sane kind. Worse still I find my fantasies sometimes revolving around the future, like kids and normal family things. I had a tough time sleeping last night.

I know I am not in love. It is impossible. I am in lust. As I said earlier, I’ve never felt this strongly for someone and it terrifies me. I want to reign in my emotions. I can see getting too close and feel my heart breaking. I’m afraid.

This sucks! I want so badly to fall in love, have that deep connection with someone, and grow old together. At the same time, I’m scared to let myself be emotionally dependent on someone, to be too enamored, and then they’ll leave and I’ll be bereft.

At the same time, I am afraid this feeling will fade. In fact, from other’s descriptions, I believe it will fade. Yet, I fear it will not be replaced with whatever affection keeps people in long-term relationships going. I know he isn’t the only person in the world, but in terms of necessary qualities for a spouse, he is damn near perfect in every important way.

On the bright side, I told him about self-injury and he didn’t seem too fazed.

*edit* I asked him why he wasn’t bothered by the SI. His response was incredible. I’ve never had a more understanding response, except from people who also self-injure. Quoting this will remove all doubt of my identity if he ever reads this blog, which would be unfortunate because depression and ED are still hidden. However, there is already more than enough here to identify me to someone who knows me personally.

“It’s not that it was something anyone wants their sub doing, but I’m realistic and understand that going through the normal struggles of life, plus your innate desires for pain, plus having to cope with accepting this side of yourself was a huge pressure, and that happens. There are plenty of angsty teens who cut without having to deal with the latter two pressures. You’re only human.”

I’m on edge today. I almost didn’t go to class because I skipped this class yesterday and I felt awkward. I know the longer I skip a class, the more awkward the return will be. Thankfully, I did go. However, I felt like cutting not long into class because the professor emphasized the importance of turning in polished work that is the product of multiple drafts. I never do more than one draft (hence, my C+ last semester). I feel guilty for procrastinating to such an awful degree.

I feel pathetic because I had a dream where I looked at myself in a mirror and said over and over, “You’re fat.” Wow, you know something is deep-seated when you dream about it! I used to have dreams about treatment. Also, while fasting I had dreams about eating and I always woke up terrified that I’d binged at night!

I might be going out to dinner with the doctor. However, he hasn’t replied about when or where. I’m sure that is making me more anxious. I rarely wear make-up, but I’m wearing it today and I forgot lipstick. HAHAHA, I know in the scheme of things, even the scheme of things within my ordinary life, that is a very small problem. I don’t know, I just feel fat. Granted, I’m on my period, but that also makes me feel fat! Thanks to ED, I rarely have periods more than 2 or 3 times a year. So, periods make me feel fat both because they cause bloat and because it proves I’m “bad” aka not malnourished enough for my body to decide attempting to carry a child is fruitless. Ironically, it is Nation Eating Disorder Awareness Week. I don’t like awareness campaigns. First of all, I don’t want anyone around me who doesn’t know about ED to get suspicious. Second, I think they rarely help. Most articles about EDs inadvertently give tips or expose people to new behaviors.

Yeah, sorry there is no real point to this post. I’m just especially self-hating today. And *laughs bitterly* I’m supposed to go eat dinner with someone I like! OH and I forgot to change my earrings. So, I’m wearing mismatching studs.

I want someone to hurt me. Another form of self-injury? Yes. However, I think there is more to it. The idea just occurred to me: if someone is non-consensually hurting me, I am a better person than they are…So, maybe consensual S&M causes a similar feeling? I know I feel proud of the amount of physical pain I can endure. Similarly, I feel superior to other “weak” people when I starve because I can starve myself and they are greedy pigs. (I am well aware this is disordered!) Cutting doesn’t hold any superiority complex. I think, for me, masochism is a self-esteem booster, just like ED. I don’t like all the parallels I’m seeing. Perhaps I’m making them up. Perhaps as everyone keeps saying I should just let my fears go and let myself enjoy what I like… The problem is I’m scared. When I’m sick, I like my eating disorder. So, liking BDSM is not proof that it is not sick for me. At the same time, when I switch from one symptom (ED, SI, BDSM) to another, the other 2 fade away. Maybe BDSM is the lesser of 3 evils? ED kills you and makes you unable to function. SI causes scars and potentially death. Giving someone else control of pain is probably less damaging than my self-inflicted wounds. In fact, I’m positive the harm I do to myself in anger, sadness, or anxiety is worse than what any non-psychopathic sadist would sanely do. I say sanely because the things I’ve done to myself could and have ended in hospital stays. The law here is that people cannot consent to “serious physical injury”, which means physical injury that creates a substantial risk of death or that causes serious disfigurement or protracted loss or impairment of the function of any part of the body. A number of things I’ve done to myself are in that category. Therefore, a safe and sane sadist would most likely do less damage than I do to myself.

Plus, EDs make relationships almost impossible, with BDSM I can have a trusting, loving relationship. SI is addictive. I suppose BDSM maybe addictive in the same way, but I I’m not in control, that won’t matter.

but, but, but…If it is a maladaptive coping mechanism or another expression of self-hate, can that ever be healthy?

*SCREAMS INTERNALLY* I know I keep asking the same question over and over again. That is because it all boils down to the same problem. Can I ever answer it???

Ah, repetition… I’ve texted back and forth with the same guy the past few days. He wants to get together again and I do to. I really like him. It scares the hell out of me. I’m not stupid, I know it isn’t love. It could be lust, but I don’t think so. It is different from the feeling when I just want someone’s body. That sounds callous, doesn’t it? C’est la vie. What else is there to judge a stranger by?

I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I want him. AND I DON’T LIKE IT. I don’t like it because good feelings don’t last and the better the feeling, the harder the fall. I’m emotionally vulnerable and I barely know him! What happens if I spend more time with him? The feeling might wither and I’ll be safe or it will get stronger and I’ll be weaker.

Don’t get the stake and pitchforks yet! I’m not saying everyone imagines mental illness. I’ve seen plenty of brain scans, which show otherwise. Plus, I realize psychosomatic refers to physical symptoms arising from emotional or mental issues, not physical causes. Therefore my use of the word is technically incorrect. Nonetheless…

Despite my swing from positive to negative in minutes yesterday, apparently I was more serious than I realized. Last night I told my mom a little about my ED relapse, including that I think I should go back on a meal plan. To her credit, for once, she did not automatically suggest a higher level of care. At the moment, it is unnecessary, but usually when she learns I’m using ED behaviors she says, “Do you want to end up hospitalized?”

However, ever since I told her, I feel like crawling out of my skin! I feel 1,000x more uncomfortable in my body! Realistically, nothing changed; no matter how much “accountability” she provides, we both know she can’t stop my behaviors. Yet for some reason, that one act of defiance (of ED) is terrifying me. Logically, I know my body didn’t grow overnight, but I feel monstrous! I feel more fat and repulsive than usual. It is as if defying ED and reaching out focused my attention all the more on my body/ how I experience being inside my body.

Plus, food instantly became scarier. I struggled to eat breakfast, whereas last weekend I was fine. I’m almost always okay on weekends because even though I eat more than I want to, I know I “have to” in order to keep up appearances. However, this morning I didn’t want to eat. In fact, now I feel like crying. …Hahaha, I talk so much about crying, but I rarely break down in tears in real life >.< …

The last time I cried over eating food was as a senior in high school. I think it was September and the school year started in August. For a few weeks I went to school in the morning and returned to treatment for lunch, PM snack, and dinner. This was my first full day back at school. I sat alone in the locker room, staring at my lunch. With a heavy sigh, I opened an applesauce cup and dipped my spoon in it. Then I started crying. It is difficult to describe the fear an eating disorder creates. We know we need food to survive. We know most people, given the opportunity, eat every day, more than once a day! But when we look at food we see all our shortcomings manifested. Taking a bite equals admitting or giving into our weakness. It means magically expanding fat cells and everyone you love turning against you because food will make you so hideous that no one can stand to be around you. Food is the enemy; it horrifies you. I literally had nightmares about eating. Eating causes a huge spike of anxiety, fear, and self-loathing. This disease is one thing you’re good at; one thing you can do right. After all, despite your teachers and parents insisting you’re smart and capable, you know the truth. You know you’re inadequate and you’re terrified if you eat, they will finally see the monster you see in the mirror. Illogical? Yes. Insane? Yes. Irrational? Of course. But the feelings and thoughts are as real to you as your grief at your grandmother’s funeral.

Right now, I’m a tight knot of dread and misgivings. I feel nauseous and bloated. I want out of my body.

And why? Just because I committed the cardinal sin, I admitted my human weakness and asked for help. There are a million eating disorder blogs on the internet; it may seem like we’re fine with expressing emotion and needs, but there is a huge difference between anonymously ranting online and using your words to ask someone in your life for help.

Now off to try to kill the other law students with studying…

…I lied, one more thing:

Remember how I said when we eat, we imagine we’ll immediately gain weight? I meant it. In my first week of inpatient treatment, I felt my clothes get tighter on my body. I saw my body getting larger in the mirror. If someone wanted to bet me that I wasn’t gaining weight, I would laugh in their face and agree to a million dollar bet. I was at “fat camp”, on a weight gain meal plan and I could see and feel the differences! However, I would be a million dollars in debt because a few days later they put me back on bathroom monitoring. Apparently, I lost weight in my first 2 weeks and they thought I purged in the bathroom. So, while I was sick, not only did my mind whisper lies in my ears and my emotions skyrocket, but also my perception of reality was skewed. My clothes felt tighter on my body and I saw myself gain weight because I believed that was what was happening.

Perhaps the fact that it is happening again is a testament to this being a real relapse? I don’t know because I call these blips relapses, but it always gets better before I get too sick and even as my least disordered, the thoughts are still in my head. They never left. Therefore, have I ever been in recovery?

Oh, for the record, I was not purging. I was hypermetabolic, a state of increased metabolic rate, usually in response to a significant bodily injury. Sometimes when malnourished people, in starvation mode, begin re-feeding (FYI, a normal or even overweight person can be malnourished! Health is not simply calories consumed, it also quality.) their metabolism re-boots when it gets adequate calories again and it revs up before settling to a normal level. It is a terrible irony for re-feeding anorexics or underweight bulimics because the treatment team gives you a high weight gain meal plan to begin with and then your body makes it doubly hard to gain weight with hypermetabolism. I was lucky, my metabolism calmed down in a month. I knew some girls forced to eat 5,000 – 6,000 calories PER DAY for months and they still struggled to gain weight. It might sound wonderful, eat all you want and don’t gain weight! But it is hell when you’re used to only eating small amounts or throwing up larger amount of food. I remember times when I honestly thought my stomach would burst because it hurt so badly (Yes, anyone’s stomach can burst from too much consumption). Your body acclimated to less food and even got used to regurgitating after large intake. It is uncomfortable to eat and keep down a normal sized meal, much less a menu that would satisfy a 300 lbs football player! In that regard, even normal weight or overweight bulimics struggling in treatment because even though they don’t have to gain weight, they may not be used to keeping normal-sized meals down; therefore, it is physically painful.

I belong to a pro-ana Facebook group. Give or take a few girls leaving for recovery, the same 50 girls have belonged to the group for over 2 years. One of my best friends there asked how I was doing because I hadn’t posted in a while. I told them about school, coming out, and my weight. The overwhelming response?

“WOW, you’re doing so well!”

Not surprising from a bunch of eating disordered girls. But it got me thinking about priorities. Is this, our weight, really the most important measure of our worth or success? I would like to say no.

It makes me sad that we put so much emphasis on our appearance. Let’s see… I almost killed myself more than once last semester, I cried – a lot, I was almost involuntarily hospitalized, I barely passed my classes, I rarely attended class or read material, and I lost my scholarship…but WOW, you lost a lot of weight in an unhealthy amount of time!!

Maybe it is because we hate everything about ourselves and our weight is at least something we can change, whereas other things are relatively immutable like intelligence.

My grandma told me for years to think of something your grateful for every day. I decided to give it a try after reading “How a Year of ‘Grateful’ Facebook Posts Changed This Woman’s Life” on Yahoo. Haha, oops…

Don’t worry in the future, I’ll tack them on the end of posts. I won’t add an extra post to your dash every day!

Day 1: I’m grateful for my sister-in-law because she never treated me differently after various problems. She isn’t blood (and therefore “obligated” to deal with me), but she knows my score and accepts and loves me anyway. At their wedding reception I told her I already considered her family because she’d been through so much with me and was always….human. Not everyone is understanding and I’m lucky my brother found a compassionate, amazing, girl! Happy 1 year and 3 month anniversary guys!

While searching for a proper hug GIF for this post, I found a GIF of Sarah Michelle Gellar at The People’s Choice Awards this year! It made me smile and it fits the theme of the post!